


add my effort

by jonnorparty (orphan_account)



Category: The Fosters (TV 2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Because Shut Up, Character Study, M/M, Parallelism, Underage Drinking, Unresolved Emotional Tension, shut up is why, why am i still writing them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 16:51:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16538468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/jonnorparty
Summary: Their fingers touched as Connor passed the bottle to Jude. The warmth of Connor’s hand lingered on the glass and Jude clutched the neck, savoring the ghost of physical contact.





	add my effort

**Author's Note:**

> what might have happened if jude, connor, et al. weren't caught sneaking out, and connor had not been shot. short and from jude's perspective.
> 
> this is very much inspired by evilolive's _Thinking Time._ i will forever love their writing. go binge read their fics if you haven't already.
> 
> title is from add my effort by the weepies because duh

Their fingers touched as Connor passed the bottle to Jude. The warmth of Connor’s hand lingered on the glass and Jude clutched the neck, savoring the ghost of physical contact. 

In this moment, Jude felt the weighted blanket of guilt drape over his shoulders and compress him into something small. A photo came into his mind: a picture of him as a baby, Callie and his mother looking up at the camera. Jude was born two weeks premature at only three pounds and two ounces, according to Callie. From the day that Jude was brought into the world, he was smaller than everyone else. No longer was he physically small, according to Lena’s mother who commented on his and Callie’s lessening height ratio at least twice every spontaneous visit, but the feeling of being small still crept on him often. 

Jude peered into the bottleneck and gave it a swirl. It was too dark for him to be comforted by his own reflection so he was left to his own imagination. He imagined his father, his mother and a car. Alcohol. Drinking. Words associated with sad people in black and courtrooms full of men in suits and his sister’s hopeless, watery eyes. All of the letters she wrote, state prison, and lifelong guilt, attributed to the sterile smelling liquid that for most of Jude’s life contained all of the answers to his undeserved suffering. 

As much of a rule breaker as his sister was, Callie had never even tasted a lick of alcohol. Both their father and Robert Quinn pronounced that Callie looked just like her mother, and they were right. The bottle was at Jude’s lips now. He remembered Callie’s unwavering certainty that she would never forgive Donald for what he did on that night. Jude wondered what Callie would say if she were here with him. What she would say if he came home drunk. His moms would be furious, but the raw disappointment in Callie’s eyes would be a worse punishment than anything they could wreak onto him. 

Jude looked to Connor’s eyes for some assurance. A mindless, _‘Help me.’_

Connor was smiling. 

The liquid touched the tip of his tongue. It was room temperature but made his whole mouth hot. He managed to get it down after a few passing seconds and the sour aftertaste made Jude’s mouth scrunch up. Connor laughed. Jude passed the bottle to Daria. The burning sensation lingered in his throat and he figured his cheeks must be flushed. Jude exhaled a fiery breath out of his mouth where it flooded his general vicinity and replaced the warm ambience of their unobjectionable mischief set in the comfort of Taylor’s suburban home. 

In this moment Jude decided he hated Connor. He hated the way Connor smiled as Jude drank. He hated Connor’s eyes pleading for forgiveness after kissing Jude with the same lips that had made out with Daria right in front of him. He hated him for making Jude do all of the talking and only responding with, _‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’_ Any admission of fault was meaningless if it meant ongoing manipulation and no change. 

Most of all, Jude hated Connor for making him hate himself. While vocalizing his pent up rage, Jude felt justified in his fury. He had been jerked around by adults before and standing up to Connor did not scare him. But Connor would just stare back, looking afraid and wounded and victimized. Just like when Connor came to school with the black eye that his father had given to him by proxy. Always then. Jude saw himself in those eyes and couldn’t help but think of Connor as the wounded, endangered child Jude himself once was. 

The bottle was passed around the circle for a second time. Jude remembered a public service announcement he had watched in school that said those experiencing deep psychological turmoil resorted to alcohol in attempt to soften the blow of any emotional trauma. He understood now. Jude had not nearly enough to be considered drunk as an alcohol abuser but this did not occur to him as he took a much larger swig from the bottle. The burn was more of a mild tickle at the back of his throat now. Connor looked impressed and his amusement did not get under Jude’s skin anymore. 

Hours later, Taylor was in the bathroom holding Daria’s hair back as she threw up in the upstairs toilet. Jude and Connor were lying on the floor, staring up at the shadows cast on the ceiling by the moon and the streetlights outside, dizzied by vodka and four in the morning. Connor was far more drunken than Jude. He buried his head into Jude’s shoulder and mumbled, drooling a bit. 

_“I want to be your boyfriend.”_

It came out more like, _‘Mnnabeurbfriend,’_ but Jude understood. 

Their little escape that night would be over at sunrise, when the rest of the world awakened from stagnant slumber and caught up to the rapid-moving high lives of four thirteen year olds. Jude didn’t know if Connor would want to speak of this moment again, or if he would even remember it once the alcohol had worn off. It did not matter. Using words, Connor had acknowledged his feelings. Albeit drunk, he had acknowledged Jude and what they had together. 

In that moment, it was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
